


One Of The Lucky Ones

by LittleCharlie



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Forced Prostitution, Harm to Children, Original Character Death(s), Pre-Canon, References to Drugs, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleCharlie/pseuds/LittleCharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arcadia Slate of District 2 was one of the lucky ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Of The Lucky Ones

My name was Arcadia Slate, and I was one of the lucky ones.

At sixteen, I thought myself invincible. To my mind, the entire world was in the palm of my hand. In some ways, it was true. I was from District 2. My mother was a Victor, and my father was one of the best Peacekeepers in Panem. President Snow even invited my father to formal occasions which required extra security. Sometimes, my mother and I were invited to come along, just to enjoy the festivities. I never went hungry, never suffered. I got the best that my parents could give me which, given their stations in life, was better than most.

There was one thing that I could not avoid, though. Even in my almost-perfect life, the Hunger Games existed. In fact, it was encouraged that every young man and woman train to their best. Winning the Hunger Games gave you the highest honor in the District, higher than even the Peacekeepers, which was why my mother had such a high status. Every parent wished that their child could be the one to win the Hunger Games and earn that prestige for their family. My parents were no different.

In District 2, mentioning the risk of death was considered cowardice. Death was an excuse. Those that did die in the Hunger Games were honored. Perhaps they had not succeeded in accomplishing the momentous task, but they had tried and that showed their true worth. Bravery was everything to District 2. So I could not escape the Hunger Games, the likelihood of my becoming a tribute, and the possibility of my imminent death.

But otherwise, life was good. The citizens of the Capitol, who I met at the parties hosted by President Snow every year, adored me. My parents showered me with gifts. I was held in awe by every girl in the District, and I had my pick of any of the eligible men. Everything was fine. Until I was Reaped when I was sixteen.

I did not take part in the Hunger Games during my sixteenth year. Though I was Reaped, a volunteer lunged forward almost immediately. Still, being Reaped had set my parents' tempers alight. Not, as might be logical, that I had faced the possibility of death, but that someone had taken my opportunity to face death away from me. They were furious that I had not been allowed to object to a volunteer; that I had not been allowed to become the heroine they knew I could be. There was more pressure that year; unconscious of it as they were. They were insistent that I still had a chance to do something that I never wanted to do. Their pressure grew steadily worse until there were no options for me but to either volunteer or let it be known that I was a coward. Bravery is everything to District 2.

I volunteered during the Hunger Games of my seventeenth year. That Hunger Games, more than anything else, proved how lucky I was. I was the star of the Capitol, in the opening parade, in the interviews, and in the arena. My visits to the Capitol with my parents had paid off, and I was as skilled as others from 2. But I did not win the Hunger Games. Instead, I died.

I did not have to face the prostitution, the numbing drugs, or the horrible nightmares. I did not have to face my mother, who knew all too well what became of beautiful young women who won the Hunger Games. Even when you have your pick of men in your District, men in the Capitol have their pick of you.

My name was Arcadia Slate, and I was one of the lucky ones.


End file.
